


Sacrifice Play

by HaniTrash, The_Reverend



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Endgame Fix-It, Hurt Bucky Barnes, M/M, Near Death, Panic Attacks, Sargent Barnes you ain't got no arms!, Sorry Not Sorry, Sort Of, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve messed up, fuck the russos, the ending is tooth rotting, we fixed it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-04-05 04:33:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19041202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaniTrash/pseuds/HaniTrash, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Reverend/pseuds/The_Reverend
Summary: **ENDGAME FIXIT**What should have happened when Steve and Bucky reunited on the battlefield. And then something that really shouldn't have, as far as Steve is concerned.





	1. Chapter 1

“Cap, you there?”

“He was my friend first, you know. Why do you get to tell him we’re here?”

“Because I have the ear piece and you don’t, that’s why.”

Sam tapped the side of his head.

“Cap, can you hear me? On your left.”

The portals opened fully and people started pouring through. Bucky’s heart seized at the sight before him. _Steve._ This goddamn idiot was really about to take on Thanos— _again—_ all by his own damn self. Would Steve really not be happy until he’d truly died?

Yes, he realizes, Steve stands alone on the wreck of the battlefield, panting, ready to keep fighting Thanos until the mad Titan finished him off. There’s no point to Steve’s struggle, he’s the only one left standing, but he’ll fight till he dies. They got there just in time.

His feet hit the ground and he can’t get to Steve fast enough.

“Fuck’s sake, Stevie, I leave you alone and this is what happens?”

“Bucky?”

Steve’s face whips around and breaks into a glorious smile. His teeth shine white through the dirt on his face. He’s covered in grime, it’s not the beard. Jesus, how long were they gone? How long has he been fighting? Is everyone else dead?

He feels the rushing air of everyone coming out from the portal behind him, like a wave of wind, and knows that backup is here. He can take a second for them, Steve isn’t fighting alone, he can hear the sounds of engagement rising around them. He can take a second.

They’re idiots, both of them, it’s been firmly established across decades, but Bucky is finally learning from his past, now that he can remember it. He’d lost Steve again, and it’s likely one or both of them will die here and he’s not going out without what’s important.

Steve’s in front of him now, eyes wide through the cowl, _he’s back to using that?_

“Buck, how-”

He slings the gun over his shoulder and grabs Steve with both hands, shutting him up with his mouth. The air’s knocked out of Steve but there’s no time to waste, he shoves his tongue inside Steve’s mouth and kisses him with everything he has in front of the entire Universe, front lines and Steve’s shyness be damned. And Steve, _thank God,_ Steve kisses him, giving full tongue right back as good and desperately as Bucky. He hears two thumps followed by a clang as Steve’s arms crush Bucky to him.

When they’re forced to break for air _too soon, too soon,_ Bucky looks down to find the source of the weight against his foot. He sees an image from a nightmare, Steve’s shield, fractured somehow, and it chills him so thoroughly that he doesn’t notice the second object at first.

His dread from seeing the shield shattered shoots suddenly toward _hopeful shock? Astonishment? Pleased satisfaction? Arousal._

“Stevie,” he breathes against his mouth, kissing him again before they step away. He lets the rifle slide down and smiles at Steve grandly.

“Is that?”

He dips his head, and it seems to be visibly painful for Steve to tear his eyes away from Bucky’s. He’s not giving any attention to the apocalyptic noises and flashes around them. After what feels like an eternity, even though it ends too soon, Steve glances down.

“Oh.” he licks his dirty lip. “Yeah.”

He brings his eyes back up to meet Bucky’s and he’s got the devil’s smile. His grin steadily grows and Bucky is so glad they did this, if they die now. Steve picks up the wreck of the shield in one hand and somehow, impossibly, the weapon made for an _actual GOD_ in the other.

Blue eyes start to glow— _glow_ —as electricity crackles in the air around them. It is so the wrong place and time for this, but Bucky can’t stop the way his body is reacting to the sight. Steve’s voice is pure sex as he quirks his thick eyebrow and speaks, and Bucky knows if Steve dies and he doesn’t, it will be this image that he jerks off to for the rest of his life.

“Wanna see?”

 

***

 

Steve almost can’t believe that Bucky is standing next to him again. But there’s no time, never enough time, always another fight, but maybe now they stand a chance, Bruce’s snap worked, it actually _worked_ , and everyone— _everyone_ —is here, he can hear the chants of the border tribe, he can see portals and sparks everywhere as the sorcerers weave their magic, Sam is commenting away in his ear, and there’s Peter, there’s the purple shockwave from T’Challa’s suit, so they’ll have their time later, he and Bucky, they’ll go back to Wakanda, Brooklyn, anywhere Bucky wants.

He grabs Mjolnir, and the way Bucky is looking at him is _quite_ distracting. So distracting that he almost doesn’t see the attacking creature until the last moment. He swings, sending the beast flying, a bolt of lightning following it as it falls.

Next to him, Bucky gasps.

“Oh God, _please_ tell me you get to keep that.”

Steve laughs, steals another kiss, and turns into the advancing line.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Re-energized, buoyed by the appearance of help at the moment they needed it most, Steve charges into the fray. Bucky is never more than a few steps away, the two always fighting their way back to each other. Steve doesn’t need to see him to know he’s there, the sound of Bucky’s gun and yells as he attacks let him know exactly where he is. He uses his eyes instead to keep track of the gauntlet as they try desperately to keep it from Thanos, as it gets passed from one ally to the next.

Peter has it now, swinging madly through the throng, and Steve can see his current trajectory will lead to trouble, so he throws Mjolnir out ahead of him to clear the way as he bashes in the head of another creature with the broken remains of his shield. He no sooner has Mjolnir back when Peter is yelling for him, and Steve is actually caught off guard, because of course Peter wouldn’t know that _Steve_ has Mjolnir when he suddenly passes off the gauntlet to him.

The gleaming glove of death sails through the air toward Steve, belying its weight. He stretches out to catch it, realizes both hands are full, drops what’s left of the shield and shifts the hammer to his left.

Those precious seconds are fatal. By the time he reaches again, it is moving just past him. _God, no, fuck no._ He jumps for it and his exposed fingers hit the metal, a hard sting, but it careens off behind him. _Shit._ He hears it hit the ground.

 

***

Bucky stares down at his feet, where the Gauntlet has landed. Reaching for it, he squats, as more of whatever-the-hell-they’re-called-creepy-alien-things rush towards his location, chasing the object like some ridiculous game of keep-away. A few feet in front of him, Steve spins around wildly, looking for the gauntlet that he’d somehow _not_ caught as that spider guy—Peter? Was that his name?—had thrown it, yelling “Hey Brooklyn!” as he did.

“Bucky!” Steve yells, reaching an arm out. “Let me!”

“Are you kidding me?” he muttered, wondering why Steve was always so keen to die. Bucky had done it enough times to know it wasn’t exactly sunshine and roses. _Fuck, if we just had a minute to stop and figure out who can do this,_ he thinks, as his thumb rubs over the green stone.

Everything freezes.

Eyes wide, a scream tears from Bucky, not unlike the ones that had come from him when he’d been in the chair getting his brains scrambled. Because that’s exactly what this felt like. Except, instead of wiping him clean, this was a bombardment of information, everything that had happened in the last five years.

_Stark, living in a cabin in the woods with his wife and a kid?_

_Widow, managing information from Avengers HQ..._

_A woman who can fly through space?_ He’d seen her fighting, she was something else entirely, a fierce weapon, she’d be a good choice to use this, though _..._

 _Thor, wow he’s seriously depressed, he thinks he failed everyone on all planets because of what happened in Wakanda,_ but he’s a literal GOD, he could probably handle it _..._

 _The guy with the arrows, his whole family, right before his eyes,_ oh my God _..._

_Okoye, trying to carry on in Wakanda..._

_So many people, everyone fighting Thanos, together, for the second time..._

_All the terrible things out of control around the world as emergency and police departments are overloaded..._

_Widow, sacrificing herself for the team, making the hardest decision, so they could create the new gauntlet..._ a tear escapes Bucky at the sight of her body, crumpled and broken on the stone at the bottom of a cliff.

_Bruce, he’s green now, but even he couldn’t handle using the gauntlet, look at what it did to him..._

_Steve..._

Bucky lifts his head to look at Steve. His heart breaks at how much pain he’s had to endure in his life. Steve is nothing if not a fighter. He deserves a rest. But not like this. Bucky has spent much of his coherent life protecting Steve. From bullies, yes, but mostly from himself. He’s always been so damned reckless, like he had something to prove, Bucky’s own little Napoleon. Over Steve’s shoulder, off in the distance, Bucky can see Sam in the air. Sam is good for Steve. He’s a good person, a good friend, he won’t drag Steve down. Not like Bucky.

Steve doesn’t deserve this.

Bucky does.

Bucky has done so many terrible things in his life.

Maybe this can help make up for some of it.

The only thing Bucky has to lose is Steve.

Steve doesn’t deserve Bucky’s selfishness, either.

Steve will hate Bucky for this.

He’ll hate himself, for what he’ll think was somehow his fault. But Sam will help him with that. And Strange, too, he knows what has to happen. He’ll help Steve.

It can’t be Steve. He’s got a life, he’s got the team, friends...

Bucky looks down at the gauntlet, and notices ruefully that it is made for a right hand. Of course it is. Oh well. He probably won’t survive, what does he need his real arm for anyway?

The moment he makes the decision, time resumes.

“Bucky!” Steve calls again, almost upon him now. But the gauntlet is already on his hand, conforming to fit snugly.

He looks up to meet those eyes, still so blue, like the summer sky over Coney Island, even as Steve himself is covered in dirt and blood.

It seems strange, but he’s seen in the vision what he has to do, and he brings his guantleted fingers together to make them snap.

“I love you, punk.”

“ _NO_!”

Steve’s scream of terror echoes in Bucky’s head, and it sounds like Bucky’s scream when he fell from the train, and he’s staring at Steve’s face as he goes down, just like the last time, like every time he went under, always seeing those eyes, even if he didn’t always know who they belonged to...

 _No more Thanos,_ he thinks. _No more of his army. No more war-mongers, no more evil people. No more. Give them all peace._

The power of the combined stones tears through him, liquid fire, searing him from the inside out, and at last he does scream, and of course it’s Steve’s name that rips from his throat as he feels his arm—well, he’s not sure what his arm is doing, because it feels like it’s shriveling up and ripping apart and not even there all at the same time.

In the same instant, he is aware of portals opening around him as Strange, Shuri, and T’Challa appear at his side. Voices float around him.

“We need to go now if there’s any hope to save him.”

“ _Bucky!”_

“Ay, white boy, what did you do to yourself now? Why am I always fixing you, eh?”

“ _Bucky!”_

“I’ve got him.”

“ _BUCKYYYY!”_

 _“Stee...”_ He can’t even finish, can’t say the word that had encompassed his whole world for as long as he can remember. Steve’s voice disappears, fades away, but his face is etched into Bucky’s brain, pain and terror pouring from his eyes as the blood pours from Bucky’s body and into the snow…

 

***

Snippets of consciousness create a disjointed story of what’s happening to him. He’s still not sure he’s entirely alive; if it weren’t for the excruciating pain he’d be sure he was dead. But he hears raised voices, urgent words...

“ _...stop the spread of...”_

_“...have to stop the bleeding first...”_

_“BUCKY! Let me in there, I need...”_

_“...not going to be able to save the...”_

_“...I think we’ve got it...”_

_“...not out of the woods...”_

_“...I’m running scans now...”_

_“...needs another transfusion and fast...”_

_“...get me Banner...”_

_“...wait, let him in, his blood...”_

_“...get that tube ready in case...”_

That sends his heart racing, he doesn’t want to go back under, just let him die, God, why can’t they get that, he knew what would happen, he’s okay with it, why won’t they just leave him be...

 _“It’s okay, Bucky, I’m here, I’m not letting go this time, you’re safe, I’m with you, you’ll be okay...”_ Steve’s voice breaks, and Bucky hears the uncertainty in his words. He wants to look at him, see that blue one last time, and tries, he does, but he just can’t get his eyes to open...

...

Bucky senses a shift in his body. There’s still pain, but less of it, and he doesn’t feel like he’s on fire any longer. The atmosphere surrounding him feels less stressful, less anxious, less crowded. He can breathe easier, too, there’s that. Although he’s still not entirely sure he wanted to live through using the stones.

“... _love you Bucky...”_

Hmm. Steve’s still here, that’s nice, though…

“ _...seems to be responding well...”_

...

_“...Steve, get some sleep, it’s been two days.”_

_“I’m not leaving him...”_

_“Ay, you are more stubborn than him. Here, I’ll put another bed...”_

Bucky smiles at that. At least, he does in his brain. He’s not sure if the message made it to his face.

_“Just like in the war, huh Buck? Our cots next to each other, talking all night like when we were kids...”_

He thinks he feels Steve playing with his hair, kissing his forehead. Whatever the touch is, at least it’s not painful.

_“Don’t leave me, Bucky. Please. I love you. I need you...”_

_“...God, Bucky, why did you do it? I had the better serum, we know that, why didn’t you let me? You already lost one arm, you didn’t need to go and lose the other, too, I would’ve been hurt but not like this...”_

_“...no more fighting, I promise, we’ll settle down, grow old together...”_

Steve’s voice drifted off, and the next thing Bucky was aware of was the familiar sound of Steve’s snores.

...

 _“I’m keeping him heavily sedated for the pain, but his brain scans indicate he’s relatively conscious.”_ That was Strange talking. Bucky was pleased to be able to identify voices again beyond Steve’s.

 _“There are no signs of any regression, the activity is consistent with the last scan he had five years ago, before everything.”_ Shuri. And apparently he was still Bucky, no signs of slipping into Asset mode, which was good.

_“I think it’s safe to let the sedative wear off. I’ll wait on the pain meds for now until he’s fully awake and can tell us how he feels. I’d suggest moving Captain Rogers, but considering how Sargent Barnes calmed considerably upon his arrival, it would appear that we should let him stay for now. He may be more alert than we realize, we may need Rogers to assist us once he wakes.”_

Shuri started laughing at Strange’s words.

_“How can people be so smart and so dumb at the same time? Oy. Go. Leave them be. I will get you when I need you.”_

Footsteps retreated, and then he felt Shuri’s small hand on his cheek.

"Open your eyes, you. I know you’re awake. I stopped your sedative a long time ago, I know my patient.”

Bucky smiled, and felt it on his face. He opened his eyes, blinking several times before he can focus on Shuri’s face. Her gaze is staying on his face, and he knows that means something, tries to remember something Steve said in all his rambling...

“You’re all scruffy again. Your boyfriend will love that.”

Bucky slides his gaze—and is happy to see that his head follows suit, no paralysis, thank God—to the left, where he can hear Steve’s steady breathing.

“Don’t worry. We won’t wake him. I knocked him out. Stubborn fool was up for two days straight watching you.” She holds out a cup with a straw and he obligingly takes a sip before he tries to speak. Even then, his voice is raspy.

“Is he okay?” he manages.

Shuri rolls her eyes.

“You two. I swear. No regard for yourself whatsoever. Only care about the other. _You’re_ the one who tried to kill himself, dummy. Not him. His only problem is that he has an idiot for a boyfriend.”

“I missed you too, Shuri.”

“How can you have missed me? We were all dead! There was nothing to miss!”

Bucky sighed heavily.

“How bad is it?”

Shuri instantly fell still, shrinking back into her petite frame. Looking away from him to the monitors, she swallowed a few times before speaking.

“You lost a lot of blood. We gave you a few transfusions from Steve, in addition to non-enhanced blood, which seemed to help you. With Dr. Banner’s expertise, we’ve managed to stop the spread of the radiation, and you actually seem to be fighting that off on your own as well, so yay for Nazi scientists I guess? And of course your enhanced healing means that we didn’t have to bother with skin grafts for the burns. Right now we’re just waiting to see—”

“Shuri.”

She paused, and slowly turned back to him.

“I can’t feel it. I know at least part of it is gone. How bad?”

There are tears threatening in her eyes as she looks at him.

“All of it,” she whispers. “And if I don’t do it in the next few hours, you’ll be too healed over for me to give it back.”


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“No.”

“Ay, what do you mean, _no_?”

“I don’t want it,” Bucky elaborated.

“Hey, genius, you’re right handed. How are you going to write? Tie your shoes? Brush your pretty hair?”

“There’s plenty I can do with my left hand. The one you’ve already given me is perfect. But I don’t want another one. I’m done fighting. I don’t even know how I survived the stones.”

“It was no small miracle, that’s for sure.” Shuri threw her hands in the air as she spun and paced the room. “What if I don’t give it any enhanced abilities, so you’ll be just like before?”

“No, and no.”

“Well, you just think about it. I’ve got the joint ready to go, the arm isn’t done but I can always attach it later, the shoulder is the important part, I don’t want to have to rip you back open, so we can just do that.”

“Shuri, _no_.”

His voice was perhaps a bit harsher than intended, a bit louder, and Steve stirred in his sleep. Bucky instantly froze. The last thing he needed right now would be for him to wake up and join in the argument. His stomach sank at the thought of trying to explain his decision to Steve. There was no way he was going to accept it without a fight, and he absolutely did not have the strength for that, not yet. After a moment of Bucky rubbing his thumb over the back of Steve’s hand—because he’d fallen asleep holding Bucky’s hand—and making gentle shushing sounds, Steve settled and Bucky relaxed.

“Listen, I thank you. I really do. And I appreciate all the thought and effort. But I do _not_ want another metal arm.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat drew Bucky’s attention to the doorway, and he saw Bruce standing there somewhat awkwardly.

“We’ve been in contact with Dr. Cho, we can create a prosthetic with a skin covering, it will look real. In fact, we can even do the other one, too, if you’d like,” he said quietly.

Bucky sighed and let his head fall back to the table, banging it a few times in frustration. Eventually, he opened his eyes and took his first look at just what was left of his right arm.

What he saw made him laugh, because if he didn’t, he’d cry.

Not that the laughter stopped the bitter, angry tears from coming anyway.

He finally understood Shuri’s concern.

“Fix the shoulder,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “So there’s not a huge crater there. So I’m not completely lopsided. Skin covering. No metal. No arm. I’m not going through that again.”

Suddenly he felt lightheaded, and everything around him looked grey. Sounds distorted, echoing as if from down a hallway, as the panic attack threatened to engulf him. He heard Shuri and Bruce speaking, but they were little more than muffled voices, as if speaking to him from underwater. His chest rose and fell erratically as his heart raced, phantom memories and pain from the last time his body had had to integrate biological and mechanical systems, multiple attempts until he’d stopped rejecting it, multiple times of him losing more and more of his arm, until they’d taken his whole shoulder, with nothing to dull the pain, nothing worked with the serum in his system…

“Bucky? Bucky! Bucky, it’s okay, I’m here, shhh, listen to me, follow my voice, breathe, breathe buddy, you have to breathe for me, it’s okay, I’m here, you’re okay, you’re not there, you’re with me, shhh, I’ve got you, I’m here, you’re safe, you’re safe, I’m here, shh…”

Bucky let himself be pulled into Steve’s arms, buried himself into Steve’s chest.

“Don’t let them do it, please Steve, please, don’t let them hurt me again, please Steve, help me, where are you, please come save me, I need you, don’t let them, don’t, don’t…”

“Shh, I’m here, breathe, you’re okay, breathe, there you go, breathe, breathe…” Soft kisses pressed against his head, gentle hands rubbed his back, and slowly Bucky returned to himself.

“I’ve got you, buddy, you’re okay. Feel me, I’m here, with you.” He moved one hand to Bucky’s face, tracing his features gently. “Feel that? That’s me, It’s Steve, I’ve got you and I’m not going anywhere. Just take your time but come on back to me, okay?” As he moved his fingers over Bucky’s lips, his tongue darted out to taste his fingers, then curled around them. Steve let Bucky suck on his fingers for a few minutes, listening to his heartbeat and breathing come back to normal, calming him. Finally he released his fingers with a little sigh.

Bucky still clung to Steve, his arm wrapped tight around his back, hand fisted tightly into his shirt. He swallowed a few times before he trusted himself to speak. Even then, he couldn’t lift his head, and spoke into Steve’s chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat anchoring Bucky.

“I know, in my head, that it’s not them. That she won’t hurt me. But I can’t. I just can’t. No arm, Steve. Please don’t make me do it.”

“Shh, of course not, you don’t have to, Bucky, nobody is going to make you get it.”

“I still have one. I can still take care of myself. I can still hold you. That’s all I need. Just something to fill the hole in. No connections. No wires. No more pain.” His voice broke on the last part, and he fought back the sobs that threatened.

“I’m sorry, Steve, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad at me.”

“Shhh, I’m not mad at you, nobody is mad at you, it’s your body, your decision, it’s okay, don’t worry.”

Steve, bless him, was well versed in bringing Bucky back from his panic attacks, and held him tightly, one arm around his waist, the other cradling the back of his head, the weight and warmth of him grounding Bucky with something tangible to cling to. He wouldn’t let go until Bucky moved.

“Shuri,” Bucky called, still speaking into Steve’s chest.

Steve cleared his throat.

“She’s here,” he said, and Bucky felt Steve’s hand lift from his head to wave her in.

“Yes?” she asks, and her voice is small, and Bucky has to remind himself that she’s only a teenager.

“Shuri, I can’t do this right now. I will let you fix the shoulder, but not today. I don’t care that it means more pain for me later.”

“Okay, Bucky. We can wait.”

“Sorry.”

Steve rubs his hand gently over Bucky’s back, as if to say he had nothing to apologize for.

“Am I able to leave the lab?”

“Well, I think it would be okay, but only if you stay close by. You cannot go to your hut.” Bucky can hear the hesitation in her voice, but the thought of having to stay in the lab any longer is enough to threaten another panic attack.

“Are my rooms still available?”

Bucky relaxes slightly in Steve’s arms at the question. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but really, why would they have given away Steve’s rooms when everyone disappeared in the snap?

“They should be. Let me check and have them prepared.”

She leaves, quieter than Bucky can ever remember her being, and knowing that it’s because of him makes him sad.

Not soon enough, the two of them are, in fact, in Steve’s rooms. Bucky sits on the couch and waits for the inevitable. He knows Steve is pissed at him, but is too goddamned perfect to yell at him in front of everyone.

“Are you hungry? I can make something. There’s not much here, but there’s enough for right now. I can get more later.”

Bucky shakes his head slightly and shifts his gaze up to Steve.

“Are you really going to pretend like everything is fine?”

Steve sighs and sits heavily in a chair across from him.

“You really want to do this now?”

“Better sooner than later, right?”

Steve drops his head into his hands.

“Why did you do it, Buck?”

“To save you from this.”

“Bucky, you don’t know what—”

“But that’s just it, Steve, I _do_ . When I touched the glove, the stones, I saw _everything._ What had happened while we were all gone. What would happen if you used it. I knew that I could have died—hell, I welcomed death if it meant saving you, saving the world, the fucking _Universe._ I’d do it again, too.”

“And that’s the whole fucking problem!” Steve shouts, head snapping up. “You think that I liked watching you die? Again? Because news flash, pal, you fucking _DID_ die, Strange had to get your heart going again. I don’t know why you think you needed to do this to me _again_ , and then you go and lose your _other_ arm, _for me_ , to save _me_ , as if you haven’t done enough for me in the past one hundred years, and now you won’t let them fix you, and you’re broken and it’s _all my fault_ because I didn’t catch the fucking thing!”

“Newsflash for _you_ , Steve, the world got along just fine without me for five years! But what did you do? You held shit down. Kept things together. Wanna know what I woulda done? I sure as fuck don’t. Hell, I’d probably have been alongside fucking Robin Hood or whatever his name is, doing what I do best—killing people, not saving them. Not helping them. So you tell me, who is better for this world? Me or you?”

“I can’t lose you again, Bucky, I can’t, please stop doing this to me.”

“It was my decision, Steve. I’m done fighting. If I died to save the _universe,_ to save _you_ , that would have been fine.”

“Why does it always have to be you? Why not me? You think I’m not tired of this, too?” Bucky can see Steve’s hands shaking, but to his credit he remains seated, doesn’t start pacing or throwing things as Bucky has seen a few times before in private when Steve is especially heated.

“You’ve tried to kill yourself twice already and it didn’t work. What happened? You took a nap in ice. You very nearly let me kill you. I almost didn’t pull you from the river. Do you think the third time would have come out any different?” The calmer Bucky stays, the more he can see the anger building inside Steve.

“And now you’ve lost your other arm for it. And you won’t even let them fix it! What the fuck is that about Bucky? How am I supposed to feel every time I look at you? You lost your left arm in the fall, trying to protect me. You just destroyed your other arm, again, protecting me. What am I supposed to do with that knowledge?” Steve flings his own arms around as he yells, his agitation finally getting the better of him. He hates and blames himself for what has happened to Bucky, it’s a broken record that Bucky has heard plenty of times before. He’d been waiting for the mention of replacing what he’d lost, though he’d desperately hoped that Steve wouldn’t bring it up, especially after his panic attack.

Bucky’s heart stutters at the thought, at the memories, seizes at the phantom pains.

“I can’t,” he says with a shaky breath. The mere idea of the surgery sends chills through him and he breaks out into a cold sweat as fear and panic flood his system. “You...you don’t know what it was like. With the serum, it’s nearly impossible to keep me sedated properly. The pain…” he pauses and takes several deep breaths before continuing. “If I’m fully sedated I can’t answer questions about pain, about sensation, feeling. I can’t follow instructions to try moving the arm, my hand, my fingers. The connections...the arm is wired into my spinal column, Steve. Half my back has to be cut open for this. And continually re-cut as it tries to heal while they’re still performing the surgery.”

He lifted his vibranium arm and wiggled his fingers before his face.

“Even with this one, with all the nanotech and all her skill and the fact that she actually _cared_ about not causing me undue pain...this still hurt like a motherfucker. So if they want to make me a piece of plastic or whatever to stick under the skin here, even me out? Fine. But I refuse— _refuse_ —to endure that again. The dozen or so times it took to finally get it all right was fucking enough.”

By the time Bucky has finished his rant, Steve is as pale as he used to look when he had the flu and all signs of fight have left him.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, eyes wide as he stares at Bucky.

“So you see, Steve, I’ve done the no arm thing while I was here in Wakanda before. It’s not fun, but it’s not terrible, and I got along just fine. I figure, if one of us has to be crippled, let it be me. You spent enough time weak. It’s your turn to be the strong one.”

The comment rips a tortured sound from Steve’s chest and he is full on crying, sobbing as he slides to his knees and shuffles over to Bucky, burying his head in Bucky’s lap, his arms tight around Bucky’s legs.

“But I’m not strong without you. I never wanted all this when I agreed to the experiment. I didn’t expect this...this fame, this pressure. Didn’t want to be in charge, you know? I just wanted to help. During the war it wasn’t so bad, because you were there. But then I woke up, and Fury was there handing me my shield, and there was another fight, and then another…”

“It always ends in a fight, Stevie. Especially with you, you little punk.” He runs his fingers gently through Steve’s hair, a soft smile on his face. He’s definitely the only person in the world who still thinks of Steve as little most of the time—except, of course, when he’s destroying him in bed, when he reminds Bucky that he’s anything but weak anymore.

“I’ve done it before, Steve.” Bucky repeats. “It’ll just take some getting used to it being my right arm missing this time. But I have you to help me through it now, right Stevie? I have you, to help me?” He sounds unsure to himself, and it’s inconceivable to him that something he’d never once questioned now worried him.

“‘Course you do. Of course Buck. I’ll be your right arm and whatever else you need. I’ll be right beside you. Not gonna do anything else.”

Steve huffs out a half-hearted laugh and continues.

“I’m so, so tired of fighting, Bucky. I’d actually hoped it’d cripple me, you know that? Then I’d have a good excuse.”

“Cuz you just can’t say no to a fight.” He pauses as a thought occurs to him. After all, he knows Steve better than anyone, and suddenly it’s clear to him what the real problem is. “Is that what this is really all about? Why you’re so mad at me? Because you’re mad at yourself for wanting a break?”

Steve sniffs and buries his face further into Bucky’s lap.

“I’ll take that as a yes then,” he laughs.

“‘Msorry,” Steve mumbles, sounding every bit as small as Bucky remembers.

“God, you are so dramatic when you’re all bottled up inside. You used to get so pouty when we couldn’t find time together. I never figured out how we weren’t caught. Guess your compass and fling with Peggy were enough to convince the folks back home, huh?”

Steve turns his head to the side, resting his cheek on Bucky’s thigh.

“The boys kept it secret for us. The Howlies all knew. Peggy did, too.”

Bucky’s hand froze on Steve’s head.

“She did?”

“Yeah. Said she was okay with it. That she wouldn’t try to stop us if...if things had been different,” he finished with a shudder.

“If we’d all survived and you’d been together.” Bucky tucked Steve’s hair behind his ear, trailing his fingers along the strong jaw.

“Yeah.”

“Not so sure I like the idea of sharing you, but she’d probably have been the only one I’d be okay with.”

“That’s because she didn’t fall for your crap and put you in your place.”

Bucky resumed his caressing of Steve with a chuckle. “That she did.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is 2k of pure porn and disgusting fluff to make up for what we did, lol. This story was only supposed to be a quick, 'hey, what if Bucky used the gauntlet?' and end there. Not another 4k of words after that! But these two idiots wouldn't shut up. Hope you all enjoyed the result of our first--but definitely not our last--collaboration. :)

After a time, Steve heaves a huge sigh, and Bucky feels the tension drain from the room and Steve’s shoulders.

“So now what? Where do we go from here?”

“Well, best case scenario, you’ll grow that beard back for me, because it was really fucking hot.”

“Bucky,” Steve chides, but when he lifts his head his eyes are full of amusement.

“C’mere,” Bucky says softly, tipping his head back in invitation, and Steve clambers up onto the couch as well, sitting in Bucky’s lap, straddling him.

“You don’t owe anyone any explanations. Any reasons. If you want to stop, you stop. I won’t lie, it’s an adjustment. So you take up hobbies. Start drawing and painting again. Read. All the things you loved doing before you could fight.”

“Tend goats?” Steve teases.

“Asshole. You know I named the smallest one after you, right?” he teases back with a laugh.

“Shut up, you did not.”

“I absolutely did. He was tiny and dumb as fuck and always picking on the bigger ones, getting himself hurt.”

“You’re such a jerk.”

Bucky wrapped his hand around the back of Steve’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

Steve’s large hands cupped Bucky’s face, when they would normally have wrapped around his neck, and Bucky knows Steve is being overly conscious of his shoulder, when in fact it had subsided to a dull ache already.

“Steve,” he breathes, doing his best to grind up against him.

“I missed you so much. So, so much. I died inside when I saw you with that glove on. Don’t do that to me again. Don’t risk yourself again, for anything. I just got you back. We’re going to grow old together, damn it.”

“That could take a while, with the serum.”

“I’m counting on it. I’ve got seventy years to make up for.”

Bucky slides his hand down Steve’s back and inside his pants to cup his ass, squeezing it firmly.

“You better get started on that, then.”

Steve rolls his hips, a tiny moan coming from the throat that Bucky’s lips are currently sucking on.

“Are you sure? You’re not in too much pain?”

“I’ll be in a lot of pain if you don’t get your goddamned pants off, Rogers.”

Steve laughs as he slides down to the floor, this time positioning himself between Bucky’s knees instead of curled around them.

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t on the list of approved activities while you heal,” he teases, even as his hands close around the waistband of Bucky’s pants.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t give a shit,” he shoots back, lifting his hips to help. “ _God, yes,_ ” Bucky groans when Steve’s lips close around his cock. It’s not long before he’s fucking into Steve’s mouth with abandon, hand tightly fisted in his hair, taking from Steve the way he loves it, using him with utter disregard for anything except Bucky’s pleasure.

Truth be told, Bucky loves it too; Steve is always so eager and willing to give himself to Bucky. He says it’s his way of giving back to Bucky, taking care of him, repaying him for all the years he spent taking care of Steve.

Steve moans loudly around his cock, the vibrations sending a delicious shiver through Bucky. He looks down. Steve’s hands are braced to either side of Bucky, gripping the couch so tightly that the fabric looks as though it’s going to rip apart at any second. A slight tipping of his head allows Bucky to see between their bodies, to the lines of come covering Steve’s stomach, and presumably the floor as well.

“Didn’t even have to touch yourself, did you, sweetheart? So good for me. Only worry about me, not yourself.”

Steve whimpers, and Bucky fucking _loves_ it. Loves reducing Steve to this state, giving him exactly what he wants so well that Steve comes untouched. Steve looks up and their eyes lock and it’s all Bucky can do to hold himself off at the pure joy and adoration in those blue depths.

“You ready for me, baby? Gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours.”

Steve moans again, swallows reflexively at the words and that’s it for him, Bucky thrusts one last time and comes, shooting down Steve’s throat and damn if that man doesn’t just take it all, his mouth like a fucking vacuum around Bucky’s cock, sucking down every last bit, licking him clean.

“Fuck, Stevie,” he gasps, chest heaving. Bucky loosens his hold on Steve’s hair, switching from controlling to caressing, and he doesn’t bother trying to pull Steve away. What was only a few days ago to Bucky was more than five years for Steve, and Bucky knows that Steve needs this as much, if not more, than Bucky does.

Steve gently works Bucky through the immediate sensitivity and then— _god bless that fucking serum,_ Bucky thinks—he’s working Bucky right back to full hardness as he’s done so many times in the past.

“So good to me,” he murmurs, and Steve rises, capturing him in a searing kiss before he lunges for the side table and yanks the drawer clean out, dumping the contents.

“Should be...yes, there!” Steve grabs the container of vaseline from the pile and returns, straddling Bucky once again. He gets it open and before Steve can dip his fingers in, Bucky has already shoved his own hand in and is toying at Steve’s hole.

“Unggg, fuck, Bucky, please, I need…” Steve pants, his face buried in Bucky’s neck as he grinds against Bucky’s hand.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you. Don’t want to hurt my pretty baby, now do I? Gotta make sure you’re ready for me.”

Steve makes a sound that Bucky loves, it’s not exactly a whimper or a whine or a moan, but it’s a completely helpless sound, and that’s when Bucky knows Steve is about to lose his mind with need, and he wonders what the others would think if they knew how Steve _really_ liked it, how much he loved it when Bucky talked to him like that.

“Help me out, sweetheart. Guide me in.”

Steve’s hand wraps around Bucky, coating him before he shifts his hips slightly to line them up. Bucky loves the way Steve’s eyelids flutter every time when he first pushes in, and this time is no different. It’s a sight he’s enjoyed since they were teens.

“Better now?” he asks, and Steve makes that sound again, and Bucky feels as though he’s going to burst, because this right here is the only thing he really has to live for, and he’s so glad that they saved him, just so he could hear Steve falling apart again.

“Don’t you worry sweetheart. I’m never leaving you again. I promise.”

Steve sobs, even as he rolls his hips, rising and falling on Bucky’s cock, a slow, gentle pace despite his desperation. His hands are braced to either side of Bucky’s head, holding the top of the couch. Bucky cups his face, stroking his thumb over the strong cheekbone.

“Don’t go slow on my account, baby.”

“Don’t want to hurt you,” Steve replies, his eyes fixating on the sunken remains of Bucky’s shoulder.

“So good to me. Always wanting to take care of me. But you already did that, didn’t you, babydoll? My shoulder doesn’t hurt, I swear. It’s your turn. Take what you need, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good now.”

Steve shudders and dips his head, rubbing his cheek against Bucky’s.

“I love you,” he whispers even as he drives himself down, taking Bucky deeper.

“Yeah, there you go, sweetheart. Take me. Ride me until you can’t.”

It’s difficult with one arm, he’s used to doing this with two, but HYDRA made damned sure he was able to do anything and everything with his left arm, and right now, that means holding Steve steady as he leans back to brace his hands on Bucky’s knees and fuck himself with abandon.

“Goddamn you’re beautiful, you know that?”

“Buck, I’m gonna, need…”

“You want more than one while you’re on my dick tonight, sweetheart? Or you wanna take it easy right now?”

“I can’t, God, just, for now, _please_ , maybe later, _fuck, Bucky please_!”

Bucky grins, knowing that Steve is fighting his orgasm with everything he’s got, even while he’s not doing anything to change the angle he’s taking him at, not stopping the building crescendo.

“You need me to help you, sweetheart?” He slides his hand down Steve’s thigh, teasing his fingers along the inside, drawing up close to but not touching where Steve wants him to most. It’s a game they’ve played a million times, Bucky always seeing how far he can drive Steve, how long he can hold off. But he takes pity on him, remembers how long it has been for Steve—and Christ if that’s not going to fuck Bucky up for a while—and drags a fingertip up the side of Steve’s cock.

He’s rewarded with another of those delightful whimpers as Steve’s fingers tighten their hold on his legs. Bucky is pretty sure he’ll have ten bruises there when they’re done, and he smiles.

“Just one?” he asks again, even though he’s close to coming again himself.

“Please…” Steve gasps. “Anything. Just need...now…”

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay. I’ve got you.”

Bucky palms Steve’s cock, gathering up the generous amount of precome that he’s leaking and gliding his hand down to grasp him firmly.

“Yes, God, yes, Jesus, fuck!”

He comes hard, and Bucky groans as Steve’s ass clenches around Bucky’s cock. Steve’s pace falters and he slows, matching the gentle strokes of Bucky’s hand, until finally he’s caught his breath and sits up and wraps his arms around Bucky.

“You are fucking gorgeous when you come. Have I told you that before?”

“Hmm, a few times,” Steve grins. “Your turn.”

Somehow Steve manages to seat himself even further onto Bucky’s cock and just... _grind_ against him and Bucky’s hand moves from Steve’s cock to wrap around his back, gripping his shoulder and holding Steve there and they’re pressed tightly together, he can’t tell where one of them starts and the other ends, and then the next thing he knows he’s shouting Steve’s name, they’re not moving, frozen together, and he can feel the mess on his stomach, evidence of Steve having come again, and Bucky is floating.

“God I love you. So much. Always have. Since the first time I saved your scrawny ass, I think.”

“Hmm?” Steve asks, and Bucky realizes that he’s spoken aloud.

Bucky takes a deep breath and lifts his head from where he’s buried it in Steve’s neck.

“I love you.”

Steve smiles, and it’s that thousand-mega-watt smile of his that always melts Bucky.

“I know. I love you too.”

“Marry me.”

The words are out of his mouth before he even realizes it, and he immediately begins hyperventilating when Steve just stares at him in shock, not saying a word.

“What?” he finally asks, barely a whisper.

Bucky swallows down his fear. He knows Steve heard him, there’s no taking it back.

“I...before Thanos, the first time, before that, I thought that maybe now, these days, you know, it’s actually legal, and we don’t have to hide, and I wanted to talk to you about being open with it and...and maybe...we could...get married.”

Steve is still staring at him, his eyes searching Bucky’s face, and Bucky rushes to continue speaking at Steve’s hesitation.

“I mean, if you don’t want to, it’s okay. I get it. You’re an international celebrity. You coming out would be a huge deal. So I understand if—”

Steve grabs Bucky’s head and kisses him.

“Yes, you idiot. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Bucky hasn’t smiled this hard since before the war. Him and Steve, finally public, finally married, able to enjoy each other…

“But only on one condition.”

 

****

 

Bucky’s smile falters and Steve can see the sudden worry in his eyes.

“What’s that?” Bucky asks, sounding wary.

“You’ve got to let me take care of you the way I want to. Let me do the things you can’t now. Let me make things easier for you. No telling me you’re fine when you’re not. Okay, Buck? Because otherwise...otherwise I couldn’t stand to see what you sacrificed for me every day without you letting me give something back. All these muscles? They gotta be good for something. And if I can’t take care of my best guy then what are they for? Just try to be better at it than I was, okay?”

Relief floods Bucky’s face and he laughs, eyes alight. “Sure thing, babe. I can do that. It’s a bit of a different situation here. I get now why you were so sore about it back then, but all I wanted to do was make sure you were okay. So, yeah, I’ll try to enjoy my retirement and let you dote on me. In fact—”

Bucky’s face pinks up and he hides it on Steve’s shoulder, stopping mid-sentence.

“Never mind. Can we go back to the kissing?” he asks, suddenly bashful.

Steve forces Bucky’s head back with one hand on his chin and brushes Bucky’s hair away from his face to meet his eyes. Bucky trembles, so briefly that he’s not even sure he saw it, and Steve repeats the action, testing. Bucky’s eyelids flutter, a serene expression softening the care-worn brow.

“Of course we can do more kissing. But, Buck, you should probably tell me what you were going to say. After all—” he beams down at him, pouring all of the smart-ass twinkle into his eyes that he can, and cocks one eyebrow. “I’m gonna be your husband.”

Bucky winces, shows him his teeth and tries to turn away.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“I think that ship has sailed long ago, my friend. Should I start recounting all of the various embarrassing things we’ve witnessed between us? I know you’ve got memory issues, Buck, so I’m happy to help out—”

“No! God, no! Okay, okay. It’s just, I thought, I felt, well, like, how you said you wanted to take care of me?” He stops and looks to Steve for approval, so he nods, not sure where this is going.

“Well, when I thought about it, only having one arm, again, and no real one, it didn’t seem that bad, like that big a sacrifice, if it meant that you were going to take care of me. And, and do things, help me to like, brush my hair, and I don’t know, open jars? Get dressed? It just felt nice to think that I’d be taken care of, like, intimately. That I’d enjoy that. If it was you. But I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Oh, Buck.” Steve has tears leaking out, again, and seriously, how much has he cried today? “You don’t have to ask me. I _want_ to do those things. And it’s not embarrassing at all. You carried me to the bathroom when I couldn’t stand up from the flu? Remember that?  Fuck’s sake, I was so weak and shaking you had to hold my dick for me? That’s love, Bucky. God knows I love you so it’s my turn now. I love that I get to do this for you. Ask me for anything. Anything you want and I’ll do it Buck. Just no more self-sacrificing heroics, okay? You did your time.”

“You gonna take your own advice there, pal? Cuz last time I checked, you were number one on the list of people who repeatedly took stupid risks with their lives.”

Steve cups Bucky’s face, looking him dead in the eyes.

“Anything you want from me.”

“Tend goats?”

“God, Bucky, you realize how much they stink, right?” he groans, even as he joins Bucky in his laughter.

“No more fighting,” Bucky says, serious again. “Can you do that? Can you really walk away from it all? I mean, when I snapped my fingers, I tried to eliminate more than just Thanos and his armies. Who knows if it actually worked or not. Even if it did, eventually, the bad guys always come back in one form or another.”

“And if and when that day comes, no decision will be made without you.”

Bucky nods.

“I can accept that.”

“Anything else?” Steve asks.

Bucky tips his head to the side, clearly trying to come up with another smart-ass reply. Steve doesn’t give him the chance and kisses him.

“I might need to send you on one last mission though,” Bucky says, breaking the kiss.

“Hmm, and what would that be?” he asks between kisses peppered along Bucky’s jaw.

“Well, Shuri said I can’t go down to my hut right now. But assuming nothing changed in the last five years, I’ve got a ring waiting there for you.”

Steve freezes, lifts his gaze to try and assess if Bucky is lying or teasing.

He is not.

“What?” Bucky asks at Steve’s look, shrugging his metal shoulder. “I told you I was thinking about it, a lot, actually, before the first snap. So, yeah, I’ve got a ring for you already. Gotta take care of my sweetheart, don’t I?”

Steve feels himself blush, and presses their foreheads together.

“’Til the end of the line, right Stevie?”

He can hear the barely checked emotion in Bucky’s voice, all teasing gone, the bravado dropped. His hand grips tightly at the back of Steve’s head.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I say we’ve earned some damned peace and rest. As much as I love Wakanda, I missed you every day you weren’t here. I can’t picture my life without you in it. I don’t _want_ to see it any other way. So yeah, I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while now.”

Steve swallows back the tears that are threatening again.

“I can think of nothing I’d like more than to be by your side for the rest of our lives. It’s always been you, Bucky, you know that. You and me, ‘til the end of the line.”

And then they’re kissing again, and Steve knows there isn’t anything he’d rather have more in the world than this man in his arms, no price he wouldn’t pay, no sacrifice too great for Bucky’s happiness.

“Til the end of the line,” Bucky breathes against his lips, and Steve feels his smile. “And now it’s gonna be official, punk.”


End file.
